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<title>The Issue of Sobriety by TheTimelessChild0</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695369">The Issue of Sobriety</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0'>TheTimelessChild0</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Omovember 2020 [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elementary (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bed-Wetting, Diapers, Embarrassment, Indignant Sherlock Holmes, Omovember 2020, Omovember 24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:07:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>812</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In some ways she still was his sober companion.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Omovember 2020 [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Issue of Sobriety</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sherlock pried his eyes cautiously open, aiming them at points that were not too directly affected by the sunlight outside. He ended up rubbing them anyway as they were full of eye crusties.</p><p> </p><p>He felt a wetness by his thighs, and quickly tried to recap the dreams, for the one that caused it. Once he found it, he stretched his body forward to prepare to leave the cocoon of comfort. And that was when the smell hit him.</p><p> </p><p>“What.” he deadpanned.</p><p> </p><p>He climbed out of bed smoothly. “Bollocks,” he muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Bloody hell!” the genius wallowed in self-pity.</p><p> </p><p>Here he was, a man in his mid to late 30s, standing over a bed that he had urinated in.</p><p> </p><p>His mind was everywhere but reality as he gently folded the sheet off, hiding the stain underneath and ensuring no dripping.</p><p> </p><p>Before heading down to the laundry machine, Sherlock made sure to grab Watson’s laundry as well, to cover up the odd timing.</p><p>Of course, that meant the extravagant oddness of the young Holmes man doing chores for the brownstone willingly did not strike his mind at all.</p><p> </p><p>Nor did the precise time Joan woke up every morning hit his consciousness.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She stepped out to find her roommate holding a pile of laundry.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, Watson,” he said plainly.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re holding laundry,” Watson noted.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. I felt like I haven’t done my fair share recently,” Sherlock explained, emphasising the bundle.</p><p> </p><p>“Or ever...”</p><p> </p><p>“Regardless, I resolve to rectify that right away,” he announced, walking away.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>Really?...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The only thing on her mind was the wet spot on his pants. Watson walked into her friend’s bedroom, checked the mattress and left clean clothes for him to change into.</p><p> </p><p>*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *                *</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock came downstairs, not looking at Joan. He poured himself some cereal and a half full glass of orange juice, chugging it down in 5 seconds. Then he ate the cereal standing up, looking towards the TV.</p><p> </p><p>“You need more fluids than that, Sherlock,” she reminded him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not thirsty,” he claimed, unconvincingly.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna get thirstier later in the day...too much at once will lead to a repeat,” Watson advised.</p><p> </p><p>He looked scandalised at the Doctor. “Wot? <em>No</em>,”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, it’s not a big deal, it was just an accident,” Joan assured him.</p><p> </p><p>That was the last straw. He chugged his cereal, scrubbed the bowl clean and stormed off.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>“Mind shedding some light on what Holmes was doing in the file room at 8 sharp this morning?” Gregson inquired, sipping the rest of his coffee.</p><p> </p><p>“I think he’ll move all his stuff in there if I tell you,” Watson inferred.</p><p> </p><p>Throughout the day, Sherlock drank at strict intervals, and never more than half a cup. One thing that caught the cops’ attention was when he verbally and unmistakably excused himself from a conference room. Explicitly stating that he needed the toilet.</p><p> </p><p>“How many nights?” Thomas quipped.</p><p> </p><p>“Just the one,” Joan noted.</p><p> </p><p>“Shame,”</p><p> </p><p>“Believe me, I think he knows,” she remarked sadly.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sherlock came out of the restroom with a bulge in his jacket.</p><p> </p><p>Even though she knew there were no drugs, Watson was grateful for their past as sober companion and client respectfully.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that in your pocket? Hand it over Holmes,” she instructed. He pried it out of the inner pocket of his coat, and held it up; it was a plastic vial of urine.</p><p>“I felt a little iffy, wondered if it might be explained through my renal functions or lack thereof,” he clarified suspiciously, swanning off.</p><p>The other doctor confirmed the obvious- nothing wrong.</p><p>*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *</p><p>Joan knew she had to confront him about it, and she had to do it quickly, with no preamble. She reached into her purse and pulled out a diaper.</p><p> </p><p>“No incontinence products at the table please,” Sherlock murmured into his spaghetti.</p><p> </p><p>“I just wanted to show it to you before I tell you to wear it,” Watson stated.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you joking? Watson, I am 37 years old, that is for someone who is 3.7 years old,” he vehemently protested.</p><p> </p><p>“It happens. It doesn’t have to have a logical explanation it’s not like a murder. Your body made a mistake,”</p><p> </p><p>“A mistake it exclusively does while inebriated,” Holmes argued.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you’ve been sober for a while; maybe all your drinking hid a time it happened while sober before,”</p><p> </p><p>“You have 30 seconds until I take Clyde for a stroll in Tribeca,” Sherlock warned.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’ll make you a deal.You wear that just for tonight. If it happens again we go to the doctor. If not, I’m right, and this is just a fluke, no big deal, and we never discuss it again,” Watson proposed.</p><p> </p><p>A deal was a deal.</p><p> </p><p>He woke up dry. But with a spectacularly full bladder. Instead of a sinful shower, the following could be heard...outside the bathroom:</p><p> </p><p>‘WATSON I NEED A PISS!!!’</p><p> </p><p>The End.</p>
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